


The Betrothal

by LizBee



Series: Scribe-verse [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, kiss meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizBee/pseuds/LizBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a great honour to marry the Fire Lord's son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Betrothal

It is a great honour to marry the Fire Lord's son. As they await the servant who will escort them to the Hall of Dragons, Ursa's father says, "Remember who you are. Be humble."

Humble. Quiet. Ladylike. She keeps her eyes down and said, "Yes, father."

And she is. She bows to the Fire Lord, and to his two sons, and to his grandson, who will be her nephew. He is almost ten, and she heard from the servants that her father had originally offered her for Lu Ten.

She's relieved that she won't be married to a child, forced to wait for him to come of age. But a little disappointed as well, because Ozai is a man grown, and she is just barely sixteen. His face, when she looks up at last, is handsome but unreadable. She suspects he won't hesitate to laugh if she says something stupid or naive.

Instead she smiles and says very little.

She says nothing at all as Prince Ozai leads her away from the party, into the great hall where the portraits of Fire Lords past stand. They stand before Azulon's picture, and Ozai takes her hand.

"If you don't want this," he says, "I'll make my father change his mind." Mistaking her hesitation he adds, "Don't worry. It won't reflect on you."

Looking back, she would marvel at his certainty in his ability to manipulate Azulon. At that moment, she was struck by the careless way he promised to preserve her honour.

Both were signs. She just didn't read them properly.

"I want this," she says firmly. She looks him in the eye.

He takes her hand. "I'm not a decorative prince," he says. "My brother's away most of the time. When he's gone, I take on his duties, as well as my own."

She says, "Good. People without work are boring."

He throws his head back and laughs, and when he's serious again, he kisses her. Passionately and improperly, under the painted gaze of his father and ancestors.

"My princess," he says, and leads her back into the hall.

 

 _end_


End file.
